|
BIOGRAPHY
Not being born directly in the 1920’s was the best thing that could have happened to Catherine Amadori, or Carrie as she insisted on being called. It gave her an escape from a strict household of a Jewish mother and a Roman Catholic, and Italian to boot, father. The rigorous and repressed lifestyle she was forced into growing up was not her thing, and as soon as she was able she took off from the Maine town and went for the bright lights of New York. It was, after all, the place to be.
Carrie was seventeen when she entered New York City, all eager to start a fabulous life. She had her clothes and some money she’d gotten from working odd jobs at her uncles book store to help her start out. And it didn’t take long for the money of run out. Luckily, though, a hidden talent blossomed. She had a good voice, and more than that, she had rhythm. She could dance. It did not take long for her to fall into the Burlesque world. The life was fast and loose, and she got all the excitement she had been denied growing up… for a good reason.
Carrie fell in with a bad man. One who wanted to monopolize her, and got violent when she wouldn't succumb to him. She did not take to the violence well and told him where to shove it. She was a rising star, and she only had to keep going up to be famous. A peon like him was nothing. She did not know the darkness that lurked in Daniel Jameson, or how deep his need to possess her went. She was twenty-two when it happened. It was December, and Christmas was right around the corner. It was late, and she was walking home alone in the cold with the snow coming down, enjoying coming down from the high of performing.
Carrie did not see him, but someone else did, two men further down the street, but still out of sight for the two humans. Daniel did not know his pulling of Carrie into the alley was seen, or that her yelp before his hand closed around her mouth was heard. But even for two concerned vampires who had respect for human life it was too late to save Carrie, but not too late to bring her would be killer to a terrifying demise. Carrie was slumped back against the wall of a building, a knife in her chest, the blade having just knicked her heart. She was fading fast, but she watched as two darker skinned men fed upon the blood of the screaming Daniel, only to fall silent and be left upon the ground dead.
They spoke in a language she did not know, though it vaguely sounded similar to Hebrew. That made her smile, reminding her of her mother. That was when Amir, the elder of the two, made his choice. He embraced Carrie to save her. Doing the blood exchange and then secreting her away to the safety of their temporary home as his childe and lover, Jahan, disposed of the body so vampirism would never be suspected, Amir looked after Carrie through her days of hellish pain.
When Carrie awoke, it was to be embraced by a new family. And this time, having experienced the coming of Death, Carrie appreciated their unbiased affection. Amir and Jahan, while Jahan was in truth a sibling and they were gay lovers, which were exceedingly taboo in her time let alone their own, acting as her fathers. Loving and kind, and very patient. Then there was Sorin Lupei, a Romanian Gypsy in life, and her brother in death. Close in those years, they formed a good bond of love and trust. For those first years as a vampire these three men played a large part in Carrie’s life, teaching her of the world, and how to live life as you want without giving up tradition completely. A finding of a happy medium, since Amir and Jahan had to do the same in the face of their vampirism and love.
|
